


Retribution

by Nicxan



Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: Child Death, FNAF 4 Spoilers, Gen, Mild Gore, Murder, Purple Man Is A Jerk What Are You Expecting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 14:54:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4440152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nicxan/pseuds/Nicxan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He hated his job, and he hated kids. But there was nothing he could do about it ... right? [[ Want to stress that there's child murder at the end. // FNAF4 Spoilers ]]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Retribution

He had grown to despise children over the years.  
  
The obvious reason was the noise. All the goddamn noise at work every day made him go through his aspirin much faster than he wanted to. The screaming, the crying, the laughing -- all of it annoyed the shit out of him. It took everything he had to force a smile when a child said hello to him, or when they just waved. He managed to suck it up, though. His job would be on the line if he didn’t, after all. As much as he hated the environment, he did want the money.  
  
Well, what little money the damn company gave, at any rate.   
  
“You doing okay?” His coworker’s voice snapped him back to reality. He forced that smile as he adjusted the Spring Bonnie head. _‘Damn thing’s unsafe.’_ “You’ve been acting weird all week.”  
  
“Nope, I’m fine.” He stared at the headpiece for a few seconds. One wrong move, and this poor guy’s head would be split in two. He could wait a few extra seconds. “Headaches have gotten worse. No days off, so no time to let it get better.”  
  
“I know the feeling.” He dropped the smile and settled the head onto the man in front of him. _‘No, you really don’t.’_  
  
When the employee walked out to entertain the children, his eyes followed the suit. He sighed and shut the door behind him. As much as he hated all the noise, and the kids themselves ... there was really nothing he could do. All he needed was to get through the day.

* * *

The bullying had gotten worse. He broke it up when he could, sure. Could that kid stop crying just for a few seconds, though? _‘He needs to shut up.’_ He couldn’t console the damn thing if he kept sobbing over everything he tried to say.  
  
It had gotten annoying a while ago, but now they kept at it even after he told them to stop once. Most of the time, that was enough. The younger kid’s sobbing had attracted their attention again, though, and they were right back at it. _‘I don’t get paid enough for this.’_ He stared at the older kids across the room, and couldn’t fight back a scowl.  
  
He weaved through the crowd. They took one look at him as he passed and shrunk back; he must have scared them. They normally had to be asked to move.   
  
“Hey!” The older one in the Foxy mask froze, and before he could be properly yelled at, he dashed out of the door with the rest of his little posse. He bothered enough to chase them away, but not enough to console the kid. Again. Not only was the brat crying, but he huddled under the table. It was useless to try and get him out of there when he was in that meltdown mode.   
  
“Why do we keep letting them IN?”  
  
 _“--hey, get back to the safe room. -- you listening? -- security, we need you back in here when you can --”_  
  
He muted the walkie, and went to the office to take another aspirin before he went to the safe room. _‘Only four more hours.’_

* * *

When he locked the door, he let out a relieved sigh. No more screaming kids, no more demanding parents, nothing. He had some time to close things up and enjoy the quiet.   
  
Each night, before he handed things off to the night guard, he tended to check every nook and cranny of the establishment. After one incident with a kid hiding in the Parts and Service area, he could never be too careful.  
  
He memorized camera locations, too. There were some rooms he didn’t have to check, but there were plenty that were officially off the map and had to be checked manually. Each and every safe room had to be examined before he left. He was the only line of defense in those areas.  
  
As he walked out of the building and to his car, he couldn’t help but notice how enjoyable all that silence was. If only he could experience it a bit more. He started the car, sighed, and gently laid his head on the wheel. Just for a moment.   
  
Another fucking party tomorrow, and it was for that damn crybaby. _‘Joy.’_

* * *

He had only been away for a few minutes. Just a few fucking minutes. He didn’t want to deal with the birthday party right away -- not after the spring-suit almost split somebody open. His patience had run thin, and he knew he’d snap if one thing went wrong. So, he took a few deep breaths and calmed himself down before headed out.  
  
That was the sensible thing to do.  
  
He ignored the first few screams. That shit happened all the time at parties. Then, the noise only grew louder and louder. Eventually, he couldn’t ignore it anymore. He flung the office door open, and froze in horror at the grisly sight before him. The bullies, masks still on, stared up at the bloody Fredbear animatronic.   
  
‘ _The kid.’_ The crybaby was in the maw of the animatronic, face-first. He couldn’t see the result of the bite, but he knew that the kid was comatose ... if not dead. He wasn’t moving at all.  
  
Fuck, fuck, _fuck_! This was going to cost him his job! He had to bite back so many swear words while he tried to get control of the situation, but it was far too late. The rest of the day was a blur of police reports, ambulance sirens, and ushering people out of the restaurant so they didn’t have to see the bloodied version of the mascot.   
  
The only things he vividly remembered was handing over the bullies to the proper authorities so he could focus on other things. He remembered the look of pure fury he gave them, and how they shrunk under his glare.   
  
He remembered the pink slip of termination he got when the day was done. For neglect, of course.  
  
He remembered the blind fury he felt towards those four when he got home.

* * *

“You fucking brats.”

The knife felt so good in his hand. It was stained with blood, and that ruined the pristine look of it. Oddly enough, he didn’t mind that. He grinned as he repeatedly stabbed the boy that wore the Foxy mask over and over. The victim’s screams were muffled by the gag. No one could possibly hear them -- there was no way.  
  
So, he relished in it. He savored the way the knife cut through their flesh, how the blood seemed to go everywhere even after the body had stopped moving and the life had left their eyes. He took his time ending their lives, just as payback for what they made him lose.  
  
He stood above the four bodies. The only sounds he could hear were his ragged breath and the dripping blood. He took a deep breath, and smiled for the first time in what felt like a while.

  
He fucking hated kids. At least he could do something about it. He knew that now.


End file.
